


when the trees bow down their heads

by frecklebombfic (frecklebomb), resistate



Series: Who Has Seen the Wind [1]
Category: Dragaera - Steven Brust
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Audio Format: M4B, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Author Commentary, Awkwardness, Community: pod_together, F/F, Gift Giving, Podfic, Podfic & Podficced Works, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, Podfic Length: 45-60 Minutes, Softness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-12 12:26:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11737017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklebomb/pseuds/frecklebombfic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/resistate/pseuds/resistate
Summary: Three times Kiera steals something for Cawti and one time she steals something for herself.(Podfic and text.)





	1. Podfic

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much to the pod_together mods, and to paraka for hosting!
> 
> If you're not familiar with canon and want a kick-start on the Dragaera series then here's a [short primer and glossary](https://frecklebombfic.dreamwidth.org/10541.html), specially written for this story, to get you started. We're really happy to answer any questions, either on the primer or here.
> 
> Contains spoilers for Orca.

Cover design by frecklebombfic

Music used is Miranda by Vamm (youtube link: [live performance](https://youtu.be/_-RlKFCKoY0)) | 

  


### Streaming

(Use mp3 link for mobile streaming)

### Direct downloads

Duration: 37:03 podfic + 19:02 creator's freetalk (total 56:05)

  * [MP3](http://pod-together.parakaproductions.com/2017/%5BDragaera%5D%20when%20the%20trees%20bow%20down%20their%20heads.mp3)  |  **Size:** 60.3 MB
  * [M4B](https://t.co/lCuUiinWda)  |  **Size:** 79.1 MB
(Right-click links; save as) 
  
---|---  
  
  


Additional notes at the [end of the work](http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/28338288#work_endnotes).

  



	2. Text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three times Kiera steals something for Cawti and one time she steals something for herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I strongly encourage people to listen to the podfic (available in Chapter 1 of this work) if possible as this story was created to be heard rather than read :D

1.

I stood outside what I still thought of as Vlad and Cawti's place, questioning what I was doing with my life. On further consideration, dear listener, I decided this was an exaggeration. My life was fine. Busy, mind you, and complicated, but that was how I liked it. Still, I wasn't sure why I was here. The first time I'd dropped by to see Cawti, after Vlad had left Adrilankha, I'd had a reason. I'd felt a duty as part of my longstanding—let's call it friendship—with Vlad to check in on Cawti from time to time.

As a woman and Easterner in a section of the Organization where nearly everyone was a man and human, Cawti was not hard to track. Two things made it easier still: I also belonged to the Right Hand of the Jhereg, and I was Kiera the Thief. So I had no real reason to visit Cawti in person – though as a point of fact I'd found myself doing just that several times over the past month. 

I finally clapped to announce my presence. Cawti opened the door several long moments later.

This is why I was here, I told myself. Cawti may had been an expert fighter—until very recently she'd been part of the notorious assassin team known as the Sword and the Dagger—but as long as she was opening her front door with a knife in hand, it only made sense to check in now and then. With the former Sword of the Jhereg now fulfilling her duties as Dragon Heir to the Throne, and Vlad on the run from the Jhereg, who else was about? I raised my hands to show I wasn't a threat.

'Hello, Cawti,' I said.

'Hello, Kiera.'

'I was in the neighbourhood.'

'Why?'

'Why am I here?'

Cawti smiled just the slightest bit. 'I meant why were you in the neighbourhood.'

'Ah.'

'But why you're here is also a good question.'

'I could come in and tell you about it,' I offered.

Cawti stepped aside in unspoken invitation. I could tell what she'd been doing with the knife once I was inside. Delicious smells wafted up the hallway toward the front door, inviting further investigation. 

'I need to start the vegetables soon,' said Cawti.

'It smells good,' I said. 'I can wait.' Cawti flicked me a look I couldn't make out and led me to the kitchen, where the mild scent of roasting kethna mingled with the stronger, sharper scents of garlic and Eastern red pepper.

Cawti starting chopping root vegetables; I settled myself on a stool next to the table and watched. Cawti's dexterity with the knife reminded me of the times I'd been lucky enough to see her at work with a dagger or three.

Once Cawti was done chopping the vegetables she added a stick of wood to the fire. She opened a door at the top of the stove and took out the pan of spiced kethna. She added the vegetables to the pan and pushed them around with a spoon, covering them with the juices from the meat.

'Vlad used to do most of the cooking,' Cawti said.

Ah. I should have thought of that sooner. 'I'm not here about Vlad,' I said, and saw Cawti's shoulders relax. I'd been admiring the way her muscles moved under her sleeveless blouse but I hadn't realised until now how much tension she'd been holding.

Eventually I noticed Cawti looking at me expectantly. I still couldn't have said for sure why I was here but I obviously needed to say something.

'Shit—' said Cawti suddenly. A pan of water had bubbled and overflowed onto an open flame. Cawti quickly moved the pan away from the fire. I grabbed a cloth from the table, ready to help, but Cawti waved me away.

'You can tell me why you're here after dinner,' she said. 'There's probably enough for two.'

'I just ate,' I said. Cawti's expression started to close off and this should have been the excuse I was looking for. I could easily leave, taking my lack of explanation for why I was here with me. For some reason I wasn't ready to go. 'But if you have any alcohol going spare—' I shrugged.

Cawti served the meal and poured the wine with simple, clean movements. She was as economical and graceful around the house as she was in a fight, I noticed.

I ate enough to be polite; the food was really very nice. The wine, from the Duchy of Southmoor, was also very nice. Cawti was quiet at first but in time we managed to make conversation that if somewhat stilted, was not unpleasant.

After Cawti had collected our plates and poured us each a glass of what she called a dessert wine, she pressed me again for an explanation for my visit.

I had used much of the time we were eating to gaze at Cawti instead of thinking of a plausible explanation. I knew exactly how far 'checking up on you' would go with someone as iron-willed as Cawti; additionally, as I mentioned earlier, there was no reason I needed to check up in person. Luckily, I remembered the real reason I was in the neighbourhood: to steal an artefact from a sorceress of the Left Hand.

I fetched my cloak and removed the artefact from one of the inside pockets. Cawti raised her eyebrows, presumably at the cleverness of my tailor, but said nothing. The artefact was currently presenting itself as a short, jewel-encrusted dagger. This was fitting and made what I'd decided impulsively to do make more sense. I hoped. 'I was wondering if you'd  be able to keep this safe for me,' I said. I passed Cawti the dagger. She applied very light pressure to the edge across the blade, testing its sharpness.

Once Cawti had finished examining the dagger she turned her attention to me. 'If I hold onto this for you, is this something that will help the Empire?' she asked.

I thought about it and decided it wouldn't, except possibly in the counter-intuitive way that all activities of the Jhereg were intertwined with all activities of the Empire so that what was good for the Jhereg was always good for the Empire. I shared some of my thoughts on this matter with Cawti and we subsequently engaged in a lively debate about the Empire as a complicated but ultimately benign endeavour toward the benefit all of its seventeen Houses (and, at Cawti's insistence, Easterners) versus the Empire as a malignant entity that ought, as a matter of principle, to be overthrown.

By the time Cawti announced she'd keep the dagger safe, I'd nearly forgotten I'd begged her the favour. I almost regretted it, dear listener, because it was only then that I remembered that matters of the Empire required I have something dear to the sorceress. To steal another of her possessions would be an arduous undertaking as she would no doubt discover the first theft and would re-double her security efforts. I would achieve my objective, of course, but planning and executing the second theft would be time-consuming as well as annoying. Cawti was wrapping the dagger carefully in a cloth, however, and I told myself it would hardly be sporting to take back the artefact now.

Cawti walked me to the front door and it was only then that I'd noticed it had grown dark in the time we'd been talking.

'Is this going to be a regular thing?' asked Cawti as she unlocked the door.

'I hope I will have no need to speak ill of the Empire on so frequent an occasion,' I replied.

Cawti's expression suggested that as a response, this was wholly inadequate. 'Do you want it to be a regular thing?' I asked.

Cawti said nothing. I waited, almost anxious. I had enjoyed the evening and the company and would not at all mind the opportunity to attend repeat performance. Were I to guess, I would have said that Cawti felt the same.

Finally Cawti spoke. 'It would be nice to see a friendly face from time to time.'

'You're in luck,' I said. 'Not only am I the best thief in the Empire, I'm also the friendliest.'

Cawti's smile before she shut the door occupied a surprising proportion of my thoughts on my journey home.

2.

The next time I went to visit I went prepared. Cawti had as much as said that I could drop by any time for any reason, but dropping by without a plan made me uncomfortable in a way I didn't spend much time trying to pin down. It was clear to me that I liked Cawti's conversation and Cawti's smile and that this, along with Cawti's encouragement, was surely enough to base a friendship on.

Cawti's front door was propped open and as I approached two smartly-dressed Teckla, a man and a woman, came out the door carrying boxes. They placed these in a horse-drawn cart already piled with boxes I'd noticed in the road. The horses were waiting patiently. I suspected sorcery and performed a small test to check. I was right, and was pleased to note it was a simple spell meant to encourage calmness in working beasts rather than anything more sinister. I relaxed my grip on my parcel.

'Hello, Cawti,' I called.

'Hello, Kiera.' Cawti emerged carrying a box, her long, dark hair piled on top of her head. When she walked past me to deposit the box in the cart I could see there was a pleasing hollow at the base of her neck.

'I have something for you,' I said. I'd planned to pass Cawti the gift but as it was quite large and rather unwieldy I'd rested the short end on the ground and was holding it up one-handed. I'd wrapped it in brown paper, in part so it wouldn't pick up dirt from the street. The package was taller than I was and the angle was awkward. I'd had to teleport over with it, in fact.

'A moment,' Cawti said. She was perspiring slightly—and if I may be so bold, dear listener, rather fetchingly. She poured water from a jug resting on the seat of the cart, offering it first to the two Teckla. I shook my head when Cawti offered the third glass; she shrugged and drank it herself in several long, fluid movements. 

'Polyin, Karesh, please carry on in the kitchen,' she said to the two Teckla.

Cawti led me past the kitchen and the living area to a room I hadn't been in before. It was empty except for a headboard and bed frame leaning against one wall. Cawti leaned against the far wall with her arms crossed. I decided to set the gift carefully on the floor rather than handing it directly to Cawti.

Cawti looked at me and then at the large, flat rectangular package. It took up about a third of the floor.

'It's for you,' I said again. The back of my neck had developed an annoying itch and I raised my hand to scratch at it. 'To say thank you for keeping the dagger safe for me,' I said. This had only just occurred to me, but even so it sounded a plausible enough explanation.

Finally Cawti knelt and unwrapped the package carefully, untying the string first and taking it apart along the taped lines, rather than tearing at the paper. It occurred to me to wonder if this was how Cawti would unwrap a lover but I decided almost immediately that I'd been reading too many novels. I put the thought out of my head.

'Help me with this,' Cawti said, and together we picked up the painting by the frame and moved to the patch of sunlight by the window.  

Cawti studied the painting. I gone to some trouble to remove it, without permission, from the Yendi Wing of the Imperial Palace the week before. I was hoping Cawti would like it.

'It's very—big,' said Cawti. I tried looking at the painting through her eyes. I could see how the psiprint could be considered a bit unsubtle, but—

'It's the destruction of Dragaera City,' I said. 'From the perspective of those who caused it to be destroyed,' I added. 'Or from the perspective of the gods; I suppose it's a bit unclear. The artist was executed by the Empire before he could complete the treatise explaining his work.'

Cawti looked up. 'Oh?' she said.

'It was Morganti,' I said, naming the method of execution that, besides disallowing revivification, also destroyed the soul.

'Ah,' said Cawti. There was a long pause. 'Thank you very much.'

We continued to stare at the painting.

'I'm moving,' said Cawti finally.

Polyin and Karesh entered the room, picked up the bed frame and the headboard, and left again. 'That would explain the ever-diminishing number of furnishings,' I  said.

'Well, help me with this, will you,' said Cawti. Together we carried the painting to the cart. It became clear that it wouldn't easily fit but after Cawti, on advice from the two Teckla, shifted some boxes we managed to squeeze it in along one of the long edges . With Cawti's permission, I cast a small spell to prevent damage during the  journey. At the same time I double-checked the spell that would keep anyone but Cawti and I from seeing the true image. I doubted anyone would be looking very hard for the stolen painting—it had never been one of Yavinb's more popular works—but nonetheless I didn't want Cawti to be implicated in its mysterious disappearance.

Cawti wrote her new address on a small piece of  paper and handed it to me before climbing onto the cart and picking up the reins. I leaned against the house and watched as she drove away. The picture she made—with her cap and  jacket and the tall, upright way she sat—made her look like a hero setting off on what promised to be a grand adventure. I shook my head; it was clear I'd been reading too many romances.

The time I'd spend planning and executing the Palace heist had taken me too long away from the sorceress of the Left Hand, and my need to be in possession of one of that Lady's artefacts was becoming rather desperate. Still, I stood there for a long while watching the cart get ever smaller in the distance.

3.

The next Endweek found me outside a wooden building in South Adrilankha that appeared far more crowded than Cawti's previous lodgings. The neighbourhood might have seemed less prosperous but it soon transpired that security here was more robust. The elderly Teckla woman at the front door chose first to be offended that I'd knocked rather than clapping; it took some time to smooth her ruffled feathers. Once this river had been forded, however, she refused to admit she even knew of Cawti. In the end I had to claim news of Cawti's long-lost husband. By this time the Teckla woman and I were on a first name basis and although Srahin refused to concede that Cawti was married or lived at this address, she did, after a time, go upstairs. Cawti came down several minutes later and invited me up to her flat.

Having learned my lesson, dear listener, I made haste to explain that there was no news of Vlad. I couldn't see Cawti's face, as I was below her on the narrow stairway, but she seemed to take my report in stride. We gained the top of the stairs and entered into a large room that was clearly filling a number of purposes: sleeping area and kitchen among them.

I expected Cawti to ask me what I wanted but instead she offered me klava. I accepted and used the time Cawti was preparing our drinks to have a look around . There was one door: I compared what I'd seen of the exterior of the building to the interior and guessed that it led to a small washroom. I walked over to the one window. As I wasn't much interested in post-Interregnum brickwork, the view was a poor one. There was no glass in the window and I was  surprised at first that the flat was as cool as it was, considering how hot and close it was outside. When I checked, however, I found spells to counter heat as well as odours.

 _Contemplation, During the Last Reign of the Phoenix, of Some Troubling Events_ took up the entire wall opposite the window.  Cawti's bed had been pushed up against it, causing the headboard to obscure some of the more illustrative and chaotic parts of the painting, but it still pleased me to see my gift hanging in Cawti's new flat.

We sat at a round wooden table I recognised and sipped at our klava. Since we were now friends I felt that on the left I should enquire after Cawti's change of circumstances. However, on the right, I felt that Cawti would be displeased with anything that hinted of pity or even worse, offers of assistance.

I doubted, dear listener, that my discretion fooled Cawti in the least as in due course she volunteered the news that she had inherited the Organization's interests in South Adrilankha and had subsequently moved here to be part of the community in which she was invested. Now that Cawti mentioned it, I remembered hearing some rumours to this effect.

Cawti proceeded to inquire after my health, which was satisfactory. I'd finally managed to steal a second artefact from the sorceress of the Left Hand who had featured in so many of my recent schemes. Naturally I didn't share this with Cawti this but I did recount another of my recent successes. It was a funny story and Cawti smiled in all of the right places. I was very pleased indeed to have made Cawti smile.

We chatted for a time about various matters and finally I could see that if I was not the one to bring up the reason for my impromptu visit, it was likely to remain unmentioned. 'I didn't drop by for a social visit,' I said.

'We're drinking klava and catching up with each other's lives. This seems pretty social to me.'

'Not just for a social visit then.'

'Oh?'

I removed a small velvet bag from the inside pocket of my cloak and passed it to Cawti.

'I suppose this is for me too?'

'I always suspected your reputation for cleverness in the Jhereg was well-earned.'

Cawti favoured me with a flavour of smile I hadn't seen from her before: sharp and just a little sly. I tried to sit patiently as she removed the jewel nestled inside the bag. It was a feather diamond found only in certain areas in the East and it had most recently belonged to the sorceress with whom I'd had so many dealings of late. I'd caught sight of it in the sorceress's jewellery box and thought it would look striking against Cawti's hair, or at her wrist or throat.

'May I?'

Cawti nodded, and I performed a small spell to increase the size of the jewel. The light from the window caught on the intricate detailing, making the diamond look even more like the feather it had been designed to resemble.

'I'll admit I didn't know what to expect,' said Cawti. 'But this—this is beautiful.'

'Thank you. I think.'

'You're welcome. I can only assume you have good reason for such extravagance?'

'Certainly.'

'Well?'

'It's a housewarming gift.'

'It's a—what?'

'A housewarming gift. It's an old Eastern tradition.'

'My ancestors heated their homes with tiny beautiful jewels?'

We bent our heads over Cawti's hand, studying the jewel cradled there. Cawti smelled strongly and sweetly of the honey from the klava.

'I have read that when an Easterner moved to a new dwelling, their friends would bring them gifts to celebrate the occasion. Perhaps they then used witchcraft to transform baubles into a source of heat.'

Truthfully, dear listener, I was a bit hazy on the details. I had determined the person likely to have the most complete collection of Eastern lore was Sethra Lavode and I hadn't wanted to risk stealing anything from Dzur Mountain on only a week's notice. I had settled for what information I could gleam from the library during a brief unannounced and unacknowledged visit. Part of being the best thief in the Empire is knowing my limitations.

'How—practical,' said Cawti. I returned the jewel to its original size. Cawti tucked it back into the small velvet bag before placing the bag on a stack of nearby books. They were the type of books used to teach adults to read: their spines suggested a limited vocabulary would be used  to explore topics in more depth and breadth than in a book aimed at children. I wondered if Cawti's dealings in South Adrilankha were at least as political as they were financial, but I kept these thoughts to myself.

Cawti dipped our mugs in a bucket of water to rinse them. I had no reason to stay and supposed I should go. Cawti looked surprised to see that I'd risen. It was true, dear listener, that my seat had not been very comfortable, but I would rather have stayed in it, speaking with Cawti, than not.

'Would you like to go to a concert with me tonight?' Cawti asked suddenly.

'I would like it above all things,' I replied.

4.

It was later in the day than either of us had realised and I offered to teleport us to a place by the sea I knew well. Cawti accepted and we arrived just as the overcast was fading to dark. A breeze was blowing off the water and we could smell salt in the air. Up ahead we could see the ship on which the concert was to take place. Lights strung about the rigging bobbed up and down and as we walked closer we could hear voices spilling into the night. 

The ship was anchored off a stretch of coastline where the edge of the land was fairly close to the sea; still, we had to climb down a ladder to reach the ship. There was a bar opposite the entrance with a middle-aged Chreotha behind the counter. The patrons were mostly prosperous Teckla with the odd Tiassa and quite a few Chreotha and Jhereg thrown in for good measure. Cawti bought us drinks and we descended a set of rickety steps into the heart of the ship.

We wandered over to where the band was setting up and Cawti introduced me to the drummer, a distracted looking man of indeterminate House named Aibynn. Aibynn knew a lot about drums. I know this because he told Cawti and I a lot of plausible-sounding things about drums. Cawti finally interrupted Aibynn to ask after his health. Aibynn was fine, but he hadn't seen Vlad in a while. He sounded faintly puzzled. Cawti agreed that it had been a while. Someone called impatiently to Aibynn and he excused himself. A few moments later the band caused their instruments to start making the seemingly random sounds that inevitably precede every concert, no matter the style of music.

The venue had been filling steadily while we'd been talking to Aibynn and Cawti and I struggled to find somewhere to sit. Finally we managed squeeze into a booth across from two Tiassa, one of whom—a woman—was wearing the brown and red of the House of Lyorn. I glanced at them once we'd settled in and suppressed a wince. They were disguised, but not very well, and I didn't relish having to sit across from them all night pretending I didn't know perfectly well who they were. They didn't break apart when we sat down, however, and I doubted they realised we were even present.

The band continued to check the suitability of their various instruments and the audience continued to take advantage of this by talking noisily, or in the case of our neighbours, gazing into each other's eyes. As Cawti and I wished to continue talking, we had no choice but to lean quite close to each other in order to be heard. Various parts of our bodies connected now and then by accident due to the tight quarters. On the right, Cawti did not seem to mind. On the left I gradually, and to my chagrin, discovered that I wanted to get even closer. I wanted to share with Cawti the kind of closeness that the Tiassa across from us would surely appreciate; the kind of closeness that would involve whispered suggestions not meant for anyone else's ears and a great deal of touching with intent. 

Dear listener, I feel sure that you, who have heard my story unfold in the way that I have told it to you, are likely to have reached this conclusion some time ago. I ask only that you consider that it had been many years since I had been drawn to anyone, human or Easterner, and to think if with amusement, then also with understanding, on the slowness of my awareness.

The band played a number of fast-paced songs of the sort that had been popular in Adrilankha over the last decade and I used the time to consider where to go from here. I knew that Easterners often arranged themselves into family groups and that Vlad and Cawti's family group consisted of only the two of them. I didn't know if this indicated that Cawti was monogamous or whether Cawti and Vlad hadn't yet met anyone they liked well enough to share their lives with. The band started playing a slow, unfamiliar song that made Cawti smile, soft and lovely. I couldn't stop looking at her mouth, the more so now that realised I would quite like to kiss Cawti.

Presently the band announced they were taking a break. Cawti announced it was my turn to buy drinks and led me by the hand to the bar where I proceeded to do exactly that. I said I could do with some air so we went out onto the ship's deck where we managed to get a table to ourselves. Cawti shivered; it was cooler up here. I regretted not having a spare jacket to place around her shoulders. I had my own jacket, of course, but I wasn't feeling bold enough to take it off and offer it as the gesture it so clearly would be. Cawti shivered again, and I bought us each what the bartender claimed was the warmest drink on offer: a smoky oishka distilled somewhere near Pepperfield.

When I came back to the table Cawti was humming the odd, slow song the band had played right before the break. 'It's an Eastern lullaby,' she explained. She thought Aibynn had probably picked it up from Vlad. The next set started but we stayed where we were, listening to the creaking of the ship and the music wafting up into the night, muted but still very much audible.

'Speaking of Vlad,' I said, even though it had been some minutes since either of us had spoken.

'Speaking of Vlad,' agreed Cawti.

'Do you still consider yourself married to him?'

'I am married to Vlad.'

'Ah.'

'He's probably never coming back.'

'Ah.'

It was roomier up on deck but we I realised we had been reluctant to take advantage of the space by sitting further apart. Our arms had been resting alongside each other on the table. Now Cawti picked up my hand..

'I've decided I'm not putting my life on hold,' she said.

'Ah,' I said. Despite everything, dear listener, I was caught off-guard. Being caught off-guard was extremely unusual experience for me but I didn't have a chance to savour it because at that moment several Phoenix Guards appeared on deck, having just descended the ladder connecting the ship to the shore. I might not have seen them, preoccupied as I was, expect that I noticed Cawti tense. She had removed her hand from mine and appeared to be discreetly checking her person for weapons. In that moment she reminded me very much of Vlad.

The Phoenix Guards strolled toward the bar, and some Teckla slunk out shortly after they'd gone in, and then shortly after that the Guards re-emerged tucking purses into their belts and being not at all inconspicuous about it. I assumed it was the usual round of bribes and didn't pay it much attention. Cawti suggested we head out as it was getting late.

It transpired that Cawti wanted to tail the Phoenix Guards for a bit to ensure they weren't harassing Teckla. They weren't, and we stopped at cart in the road to get something to eat because it was late and we hadn't eaten and Cawti was hungry. Cawti bought roast kethna with ginger and scallions on a seeded bun and I bought a mug with a lid and some klava to go in the mug. The Teckla woman whose cart it was told me if I brought the mug back the next time I wanted klava she would fill it and I wouldn't have to buy a new mug. That seemed like a good idea and I told her I'd be back.

We sat on a low wall with a decent view of the Wrecked Bridge while Cawti finished her bun and I finished my klava. We loitered after we were done and Cawti said it was a nice night and I said what if I walked Cawti home? Cawti said her stomach would probably appreciate it. We wandered east toward South Adrilanka; this didn't make much sense but I didn't much care. I walked with my empty mug in my hand until Cawti suggested there was an easier way. Her fingers were sure and steady as she looped the belt of my jacket through the handle of my mug and tied a knot so it wouldn't fall off.

'Perfect,' I said. Cawti smiled.

We walked sometimes in silence, listening to the sounds of Adrilanka settling in for the night or waking up for the night, depending on the neighbourhood.  We talked sometimes of various things, including:

—the narrow, colourful boats home to many down-on-their-luck Orca and the odd Chreotha moored on the Adrilankha River, and viewed from the atop the Five Mile Bridge;

—the best places in Adrilanka to get walking boots made: places that made sturdy, comfortable darr skin boots, and sold them to you at a fair price; places where the proprietor would produce a mould of your feet from the archive in back of the shop because they'd kept it on file the whole five or ten years since your previous custom;

—how to quickly remove and replace a wax seal from a letter or other document without the use of heat or sorcery: I was rather proud of this method, which I'd devised myself and was part of what made my status amongst thieves equivalent to Mario's status amongst assassins;

— on the occasion of passing a group of carts selling food: Vlad's grandfather's cabbage soup. I was glad we could talk together of Vlad so easily; it gave me hope that the absence of our friend would become easier for us to bear;

—the recent assassination of the ruler of Elde Island, at least until I received the distinct impression Cawti found this topic to be unpleasant. I quickly changed the subject to something more convivial.

We talked of all of these things, and more, and still it seemed as though only minutes had passed when we found ourselves standing in the very dark, very quiet street outside Cawti's block of flats.

I had been thinking of Cawti's hand on mine on the ship. I took a deep breath, and a chance, and kissed her. Cawti didn't kiss back. I stopped. When I pulled away, Cawti's eyes were big and her expression was serious.

'I stole that kiss,' I said, and was about to apologise when Cawti leaned forward and kissed me. I touched her hair, and the hollow at her neck, because I'd been wanting to for a long time, longer than our walk home through Adrilankha, and it seemed as though I could, now.

'You didn't, really,' mumbled Cawti into my mouth. 'You took me by surprise, is all.'

'I'm a thief. Let me have this.'

'Only if I get to be an accomplice.'

'Well. What would you say to a little breaking and entering?'

We made it into Cawti's flat without using any of her keys. When she undressed me, it was nothing like the careful way in which she'd unwrapped the painting I'd given her.

It was much, much better.

END

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to frecklebombfic for suggesting we work together in the first place, being brilliant to work with, beta reading, and making such amazing podfic AND inspiring cover art <3

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Christina Rossetti, by way of W.O. Mitchell:
> 
> _Who has seen the wind?_  
>  _Neither you nor I:_  
>  _But when the trees bow down their heads,_  
>  _The wind is passing by._


End file.
